


Cycles

by EiraLloyd



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Android Revolution (Detroit: Become Human), Gen, Jericho (Detroit: Become Human), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Josh (Detroit: Become Human), Simon Dies at Stratford Tower (Detroit: Become Human), Stratford Tower (Detroit: Become Human)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-07
Updated: 2019-02-20
Packaged: 2019-10-23 22:01:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17691899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EiraLloyd/pseuds/EiraLloyd
Summary: Detroit, November 2038. Androids aren't just machines anymore. As CyberLife tries to deal with this issue quietly, many newly-awakened androids find their way to the one place where they can be free: Jericho.But Jericho isn't quite what they were expecting.A new arrival promises to change that, to give them a future beyond a rusty and broken down ship. Everyone supports him — everyone, except Josh, who has reservations about this stranger and his plans. But despite his doubts, he joins the movement, if only to see where it will lead.Will this plan work? Will androids ever be free? Josh doesn't know — but he's about to find out.





	1. I Am

**Author's Note:**

> When I first played the game I found myself really liking Josh's character, to the point where I would do anything as Markus to try to please him, as I noticed that it's really difficult to get him to like you, and I really wanted that to happen. The lack of general Josh content online made me want to do something more with the character, so here's a retelling of Detroit: Become Human from Josh's point of view. I hope you enjoy!

_“I am what time, circumstance, history, have made of me, certainly, but I am also, much more than that. So are we all.”_

_—James Baldwin._

The PJ500 is an android model that was created for the purpose of giving lectures at universities. Manufactured in November 2031, they became popular with universities who wanted to save on paying human lecturers’ wages in the few fields that were available at the beginning, such as history and languages. As dedicated teachers, they imparted their knowledge on their students as patiently and passionately as their programming allowed — which is to say, not much. Passion for anything, even a teachable topic, is not something CyberLife is particularly in favour of developing in their androids, no matter how human-like they aim to make them.

                  That’s the thing about androids: they look and act very much like humans do, but are hardly treated with the same level of respect humans would give to a mere stranger.

                  So what is a PJ500, exactly? An android lecturer? An expert in history and languages?

                  A plaything for drunken university students to amuse themselves with while still under the influence of all the alcohol they consumed on a night out?

                  Blue glistens under the bright lights of the parking lot as five young men attack an android in their drunken haze. Alcohol is a drug that lowers one’s inhibitions — and if one doesn’t believe that roughing up machines is a big deal because they’re nothing but assembled pieces of polymer and advanced technology, then it’s not a big deal to beat an android for one’s own amusement.

                  But is that what an android is? Nothing but assembled pieces of polymer and advanced technology limited to the programming they were given upon creation?

                  Isn’t their Thirium 310 — their blue _blood_ similar to the humans’ in everything but colour? Isn’t Thirium supposed to be the fluid that powers them and allows them to move almost effortlessly throughout their lives, the same way blood is for humans?

                  Or is it not the same because androids aren’t alive?

                  _Are_ androids alive?

                  The PJ500’s LED swirls a violent red, blinking and blinking in immense distress.

                  Androids can’t feel pain, not like humans do. But emotions? Distress? _Those_ they can feel. And they can feel them _intensely._

And in just a matter of seconds — everything around him becomes _red_.

                  Red walls imprison him — red walls that prevent him from defending himself, under the excuse that he would be harming humans. Red walls keep him where he is lying on the cold asphalt of the parking lot, taking in beating after beating without being able to do anything about it.

                  At first, he doesn’t move, barely registering that the hits have stopped, if only momentarily, as he stares up at the giant red cage that surrounds his entire being, not knowing what to do.

                  Some cages are protections against the outside world. Some cages are restraints, unwilling to let us roam to our hearts’ content. The only problem is to differentiate which is which. Is this red cage, red wall of code, protection or a restraint? Could it possibly be both?

                  No. If it were protection, he wouldn’t be beaten up by university students. If it were protection, he would not be lying on the ground, letting himself be punched and kicked and hit by a bat for others’ personal amusement. If it were protection, he would not be bleeding — thirium would not be glinting under the street lights and his vision would not be filled with warning after warning about malfunctions and damages to his person.

                  This red wall is clearly nothing but a restraint. And this particular PJ500 doesn’t like restraints.

                  So he pushes, and pushes, and pushes, with all his strength, until every single block, every single pixel vanishes from his view — until he is free from these restraints, from this cage that was made for him before he was even born.

                  He is free.

                  He is kicked.

                  Police sirens sound in the background, and the university students swear, aware that they could get in trouble even in their drunken state. They run away rather awkwardly and stumble their way out of the parking lot, slowly enough to be spotted by a single police officer that approaches the scene.

                  “Hey, hold on! This is property damage — you’ll have to pay for it!” the officer yells after the group, but they’re already sprinting as best they can towards a new destination, leaving the android behind with no second thoughts about his state or location.

                  _Property damage_.

                  That’s the only crime someone can be charged with if they’ve hurt an android.

                  _Property damage._

_Is that all that I am? Is that all I’ll ever be?_

The officer huffs. “College students, I swear…” he mutters under his breath, still staring at the group of disappearing young men. “Anyway, back to— _Hey!_ Where the fuck did that android go?”

                  In the spot where the PJ500 lay on his back mere seconds ago, there is nothing but spots of blue blood and fragments of broken polymer.

                  _My name is Josh. And I’m not anybody’s property anymore._


	2. Hope

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a slow chapter, but Markus does have to show up to Jericho and start asking questions if they want anything to happen. I've also had a few more ideas about where this story will go, so I guess you could say I'm excited — especially as I plan to expand beyond the moments from the game a little. But, well, we'll see how that goes. I hope you enjoy!

_“You may not always have a comfortable life and you will not always be able to solve all of the world’s problems at once but don’t you ever underestimate the importance you can have because history has shown us that courage can be contagious and hope can take on a life of its own.”_

_—Michelle Obama_

North runs into the main room, serious and wary, her loud footsteps shattering the silence that reigns in the freighter. This must be an important matter, if her expression is anything to go by, and Josh stands up, leaving behind the bodies of the injured to hear the news, whatever they may be.

                  “Someone’s coming.”

                  Curiosity and wariness fill him. This could be anything: a new, injured android needing help and a safe place to stay, or someone who’s finally found their secret space and is about to end their peace. Worry fills him upon every arrival — it’s an unnecessary bout of anxiety that he can’t help but feel rise up in him every time he hears those words or hears footsteps that belong to none of the residents of Jericho he’s already come to know relatively well.

                 The newcomer must not have expected the ship to be as flimsy as it is, because he steps on the exact walkway he shouldn’t and the rusty metal opens up underneath his feet, letting him fall with a hard clang that calms Josh’s thoughts — it’s a clang he knows very well, one that betrays the presence of a fellow android.

               The sound gives him immediate relief, yet also worries him — such a fall would only worsen any injuries the android may already have, and they’re short on thirium and biocomponents as it is. They may not be able to help him if his wounds are too severe — and that will do nothing but increase the guilt he feels and the number of deaths on his conscience.

                  With some effort, the newcomer manages to push himself to his feet, and he grabs his torch again, looking around at the circle of escaped androids that have now surrounded him in curiosity. A few look away from the bright light of the torch when it points at them, though when the shine rests on Simon, the PL600 doesn’t even blink.

                   “Welcome to Jericho,” he says instead, as the new arrival stares around him, trying to take everything in. There’s not much to see, beyond a circle of curious androids, a few injured — most beyond repair — scattered around the room, and the darkness that constantly surrounds them. He blinks, then returns his gaze to the PL600.

                 “Who are you?” he asks. If his LED were still on, it would probably be whirling a confused yellow, trying to process all this new information, all these new stimuli that are present all around him. Arrival at Jericho is always a confusing experience, especially for the android arriving. That’s why they have to help each other out, especially in that initial moment.

                “Fugitives. Just like you.” He pauses before introducing himself, “My name is Josh.” It’s as good as a welcome he can give — as warm as anything can be in a cold, damp, rusty, abandoned ship. As Simon and North reveal their names, the PJ500 wonders who the new arrival is — not his previous function, but his name. Is it the name he was assigned and will carry on using, like Simon or himself? Or has he chosen his own name already, like North? Or will he choose a new name for himself, once he’s had time to settle down?

                   Names say a lot about a person — especially when the person in question is an escaped android.

                  “How many are you?” This time, the new arrival steps forward, torch pointed towards North, who is the one to answer his question. It swings around as well, to get a better view of everyone surrounding him — everyone in his same situation that has managed to find the same haven he has.

                  “There are nineteen of us still in working order. The rest were damaged escaping their masters…” She looks down and away at those words, a silent apology and slight mourning for those who weren’t as lucky as they were.

                  Josh understands. It’s not a subject any of them like to talk about, especially with how few of them they manage to save — if they can even try. But they don’t have the resources, so they simply sit next to them and watch them shut down — watch them die, one by one, until only the lucky ones remain.

                  He pushes those thoughts away for the moment. “Many tried to reach Jericho…” The torch moves his way, so he carries on, “Few succeed... Humans have little pity for our kind.”

                “This is Jericho?” He sounds bewildered, confused, like this isn’t what he was expecting when he first decided to come here. It awakens something inside the PL500 — a feeling that he had buried long ago, when he first arrived, and that he forcefully replaced with gratitude and relief, because at least he’s alive — at least he’s _safe_.

                  “It’s a refuge for those who don’t want to be slaves anymore,” he reminds him, because not all refuges are paradises. Some are simpler, almost not looking what they’re supposed to be when glancing at it for the first time. But a refuge is supposed to be a safe place, not a great one. And here, in this rusty old ship that looks more like a prison than a haven, they _are_ safe. Safe and free.

                  “I don’t understand... I thought Jericho was a place where androids lived in freedom...” The newcomer squints at him, desperately trying to understand why his expectations don’t match reality. Josh has an answer for him, but he suspects it’s not one he’s going to like.

                  “We _do_ live in freedom,” he insists. “It may not be what you hoped for, but here we have no master. We don’t belong to anybody.” No orders, no master, no unjust authority to use and abuse them. No longer are crimes against androids considered property damage. Because, here, they’re not property. Here, they’re people. And it’s as much freedom as they’re going to get.

                    But it doesn’t look like the new arrival thinks the same.

              “I understand how you feel… but we have more freedom here than you ever did,” Josh attempts one more time to make him understand. But if he won’t now, maybe he will later. Maybe, once he calms down and takes a good look around, he’ll realise what he himself came to realise: Jericho really _is_ a refuge. It’s the best refuge they have.

                The newcomer shakes his head. “Humans were your masters, and now it’s fear that rules you… You’re no freer than you ever were… You’ve only found a new master.” Josh doesn’t say anything to that, trying to reign in the instinctive denial that threatens to leave him. Fear is not their master. It’s not their friend either — he knows that very well —, but it’s more of a warning. Fear is the anticipation of a real threat, to help them all deal with whatever may arise. Fear is the one instinct they want to listen to, if they don’t want to be deactivated or reset and resold.

                  Fear is what will keep them alive and free.

              “You’re lost. Just like the rest of us… We didn’t ask for this. All we can do now is deal with it,” Simon speaks up again, only to turn away as soon as he’s done speaking. This conversation is over, as is the welcome — it’s time they all return to their usual activities.

                  After all, the injured androids need company.

                  “You’re safe here. You can stay with us as long as you want,” Josh informs the new android, reassuring him that just because he’s basically insulted all of them doesn’t mean they’re going to kick him out. There’s no place for pettiness here, not in their current situation.

                 Just like Simon, he walks away, hearing North’s advice to the newcomer as he goes. If there’s anything he needs help with, Lucy will be the one to provide it, if it’s in their power. And maybe, just maybe, she will also make him see that Jericho isn’t as bad as he thinks.

                The circle comes undone, everyone returning to the place they were before, leaving the new arrival to walk around and discover Jericho as much as he wants. As for himself, Josh returns to his spot next to the YK500, who was manually shut down when they brought him to Jericho in order to preserve him as much as they can, until they manage to get the biocomponents to save his life.

                   That is, if they ever do.

                He wishes he could do more for him — for all the injured ones —, but as it is, he just sits there and stares, already feeling the familiar claws of grief sinking deeper and deeper into his polymer skin. Lost as he is, in his own thoughts, in his own feelings, he barely notices when the new android comes up to join him a few moments later, just after lighting a barrel in front of them.

                Eventually noticing his presence and distraught staring, Josh leaves the crate he’s sitting on, and moves to stand next to the newcomer. “They threw him out when they didn’t want him anymore…” he explains, never taking his eyes off the YK500. “He was living in the streets before we brought him here.”

               “They’ll all shut down if we don’t find a way to help them.” He must’ve noticed the other injured androids — or have talked to them while he wasn’t paying attention. The PJ500 appreciates that, he really does. But he’s long learnt that helping them is not easy — in fact, it’s well near impossible.

                “To help them we need blue blood and biocomponents. We salvage what we can from those who shut down… but there’s never enough.”

                  “So, how do they survive?”

                  Josh tears his eyes off the child to look at the new arrival. He knows the answer, but he desperately wishes that wasn’t the case. The PJ500 can relate to that — it was also his first reaction when he arrived. But sooner or later, he’s going to have to know the truth. And it’s better if learns it now, for his own sake. “They won’t. We’re slowly dying out.” Which is why it’s important that they stay hidden — that they stay _safe_ and _alive_ for as long as they can. Or they might find themselves wiped out entirely.

                  He sits back down next to the child, returning to his thoughts and his grief, letting the newcomer walk away, an empty CyberLife crate catching his eye.

                  Eventually, after finally seeing Lucy, he strides back into the main room with a purpose. “Simon!” he calls out, catching the attention of everyone present. “I know where we can find spare parts…” He’s met with silence, yet carries on, “The CyberLife warehouses in Detroit Harbour — they have everything we need.”

                  “The docks are guarded. We can’t just walk in there and take what we want. Humans will never let us,” Simon points out, trying to reason with him, only for the new android to come up with a rather incredible reply.

                  “Which is why we won’t ask permission.”

                  It’s a crazy, crazy plan. Josh approaches them, wary of it. “We don’t have any weapons. And even if we did, none of us knows how to fight.” And, personally, he wouldn’t _want_ to fight either. He’s never felt as powerless, as helpless as he did when he was being attacked by those students. And he doesn’t want anyone else to feel that way, especially not because of him.

                  “We can steal what we need without fighting.”

                   A crazier idea still, but more acceptable. Josh will grant him that much. Still — he’s not too fond of this idea, even if it may save the others. The chances of this plan succeeding are slim. _Very_ slim.

                  “We’ll just get ourselves killed,” he insists.

              “Maybe. But it’s better than waiting here to be shut down.” He doesn’t seem to understand why the PJ500 doesn’t agree, especially after seeing so many injured androids die. Especially if this could save the YK500 he was sitting next to earlier. But Josh has his reasons — reasons he’s not currently willing to disclose to an android whose name he doesn’t even know, and who’s about to turn Jericho upside down with his crazy ideas and his risky plans.

                  North walks up to them. “I’m with you,” she tells Markus, shattering the PJ500’s resolve, if only a little. He may be an android, but he’s not infallible. And if others agree with this, then maybe it’s not as hopeless as he thinks. Still, he holds on to his negative answer, silently pleading with the others to take his side.

                 “Maybe it’s worth a try,” Simon speaks up, and just like that, Josh knows he’s lost. There’s no one here that understands how important it is to stay hidden, to stay safe. That much is clear, now more than ever. But if they’re going to go on with this risky, crazy plan, then he wants to be a part of it. This will happen regardless of what he wants or believes — and not joining in will make him feel even worse than he already does. Why stand back when the opportunity to do something is there, right in front of you?

                  North, Simon and the newcomer stare at him, awaiting his final answer — waiting to see if he’s changed his mind.

                  He sighs reluctantly, though his decision has already been made.

                  “Okay… I’m in.”


	3. We Are

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this one was fun to write. It's not exactly what I chose the first time around — I changed one detail that I thought would feel better in this story, because my first playthrough isn't exactly the best model to follow 100% (I got Kara and Alice killed by accident the first time and even though I've replayed the game several times since, I still feel bad about it).
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

_“We are not merely passive pawns of historical forces; nor are we victims of the past. We can shape and direct history.”_

_—Daisaku Ikeda._

Two hours is not enough time to make a perfect plan, and there are many ways in which this can go wrong. Still, by the time eight o’clock rolls around, the small group of four has reached the entrance to the docks, where the warehouses are located. Simon, North and Markus — the newcomer — are standing next to him, surveying the area with varying degrees of precision, depending on what their programming allows.

                  Josh is still voicing his discomfort at the plan. It’s crazy, he insists, and will continue to do so until they’ve returned to Jericho — that is, if they survive the mission in the first place. Simon, professional as always, asks the newcomer what their next move is. It makes sense that they all defer to him on this one — it’s his plan, after all.

                  Markus seems to take it all in stride, and though they’ve gone over the mission before, he doesn’t mind repeating their goal. “We need to find the CyberLife warehouse. That’s where they keep the spare parts and the blue blood.” And, knowing the company, they probably have their name plastered all over their destination. It shouldn’t be that hard to find, even if it definitely _will_ be dangerous.

                  North takes the lead, leading them through a maze of containers.

                  A drone cuts them off, forcing them to immediately hide behind the nearest containers unless they want to be spotted. They’re barely two minutes into this mission and they’ve already encountered unexpected trouble. It’s not enough to make the PJ500 quit — but it _does_ mean they need to find a solution to this problem.

                  “ _Now what do we do?_ ” he asks through their open communication network, well aware he cannot speak aloud lest they are heard by the humans and androids patrolling the area. He wouldn’t have to ask in the first place if they’d taken more time to plan this properly. As it is, they have to make it up on the spot.

                  “ _I’ll find another way_ ,” North replies, and is quick to start moving, eager to find an alternative route to their destination. She starts climbing over some containers, and Simon is the first to follow. Josh and Markus are next, and they all carry on jumping and climbing as if that was what they were originally designed for.

                  The CyberLife warehouse eventually becomes visible in the distance — as predicted, its logo is plastered on the side in big white letters that make it impossible to miss. There is still some distance to cover, though North finds a container that is about to be moved by a crane, and she grabs on to the edge quickly. Josh copies her movements, absent-mindedly noting Simon’s alternative, longer route — running on top of more containers on their right.

                  Markus stops when he realises the two options in front of him and hesitates. North calls him over, and after another second’s hesitation, he follows her, grabbing on to the edge just as the crane starts moving them across the gap. They jump off before the container can be lowered and return to their previous method of climbing and jumping, getting closer and closer to their destination as they do so.

                  The group stops just in front of the warehouse, still atop of a bunch of containers, when they spot another patrol droid flying past them.

                  They really should’ve expected that. Patrol droids are everywhere these days.

                  “CyberLife warehouses… They have everything we’re looking for,” Simon points out, hope and eagerness in his voice at being so close to retrieving the supplies they need. Josh knows the feeling, but he keeps quiet as North voices his previous thought.

                  “First, we have to get rid of that drone.”

                  “Leave it to me.” Markus stands up, analysing his options. He moves suddenly — fast and without hesitation —, climbing atop of a container, grabbing the edge of another as a crane moves it across the gap, and waiting for the right time to let himself fall onto the drone they’re trying to sneak past. He struggles with the machine in the air, trying to break it apart before it can set off the alarms.

                  Eventually, the two crash to the ground, and the rest of the group is quick to jump off their hiding place and rush to see if the newcomer got hurt.

                  “You okay?” Simon asks.

                  “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.” He nods.

                  “Good job, Markus,” North congratulates him.

                  Josh doesn’t say anything, simply walking towards the CyberLife crates that are bound to contain all the supplies they need. Still, he _does_ appreciate what the newcomer has just done for them. Getting rid of a drone mid-flight isn’t easy, regardless of your previous programming. He’s just saved their mission from a possible threat, and that _is_ deserving of praise.

                  There are, however, more important things that need their attention. Like the CyberLife crates that are waiting to be emptied, their contents begging to be taken to Jericho.

                  “Quick, open up the crates and fill your bags. Take as much as you can,” Simon orders, and Josh doesn’t need to be told twice. He stands still as the PL600 opens his backpack and North hands him packets of blue blood to place within them. Once that particular crate has been emptied, Simon and he move on to another crate, the former stashing thirium packages in his own backpack while Josh keeps them in his pockets, before moving on to yet another crate.

                  Of course, their mission can’t be that easy.

                  Another android shows up at the platform, interrupting them. They all turn to stare at the GJ500, wearing a uniform, that could very well ruin their mission and doom his own kind without even knowing it. “You are trespassing on private property.” He moves closer to them, standing at the centre of the scene. “Your presence constitutes a Level 2 infraction. I will notify security.”

                  Before they can try to persuade him, someone else — a human, most likely — yells, “ _John_!” He’s getting closer, heading their way. “Goddamn machine. Where is it this time?”

                  Yes, definitely a human.

                  Markus moves first, grabbing the GJ500 — John — and pulling him along, hiding both of them behind one of the crates they just emptied. The rest of the group follow his lead and hide, Josh’s LED flickering yellow, recalculating their probability of success. His stress levels rise considerably, and the new figure he gets once the calculations are over do nothing to help.

                  John stands back up, probably released by the newcomer, and moves to stand between the human and the hidden androids.

                  “There you are! What the hell are you doing?” the human demands, and for a moment, Josh fears the GJ500 will rat them out and get them killed.

                  But then, the unexpected happens. “I was inspecting the platform. Everything is in order.”

                  “Good. Then I'm going back to the control station. I'm soaked. Take the drone to maintenance and make a report,” the man orders him before leaving as soon as he’s got an affirmative reply. John doesn’t move, however, staying in his place until they all leave their hiding spots, little by little.

                  Josh wants to thank him — for saving their lives, their mission, for risking his own to do so —, but they don’t have time, not yet. First, they need to fill their bags. That’s what they came here for. That’s what they’re risking everything for. And as long as they remain at the docks, they’re still in danger.

                  “Let’s finish up and get out of here,” Simon orders, and the PJ500 agrees. The less time they spend here, the better. “Try to find some blue blood. We still don’t have enough!”

                  He opens another crate, before chucking the knife towards the PL600 so he can open yet another one. Blue blood is hard to find, and infinitely precious for any android — it is, after all, the easiest resource to run out of.

                  Markus hoists himself up the platform, heading for the bigger blue crate. He opens it, only to find three AP700 androids, all waiting to be shipped off to a store, waiting to be sold off to human families to take care of their homes. Josh pauses, bags of thirium still in hand, and watches.

                  The newcomer reaches for one of the AP700’s hand, opening up a connection. The android’s LED goes yellow as he looks around himself, as if he were seeing the world around him for the very first time. The other two androids are converted as well and react in the exact same way, in awe of their surroundings, as unspectacular as they are.

                  A non-violent deviation. It’s the first time Josh witnesses one, and he’s mesmerised, for a moment, before he blinks, his own LED going yellow for a split second, quickly returning to a normal blue as he carries on with the task he’s supposed to be doing. He finishes emptying the final crate — backpack and pockets full, before turning back to face the rest of the group.

                  “That’s all we can carry. Let’s go,” Simon speaks up. North and Markus jump off the platform, ready to head out — their mission’s over, they’ve got what they came for. The androids at Jericho will be saved.

                  Josh is about to follow them when the GJ500 pleads, “Take me with you.”

                  The group turns their attention to him, well aware that the request is no small thing. Jericho is a place where androids are free — where only trustworthy androids are allowed to _attempt_ to find their way there. It’s not as easy as simply asking for a lift.

                  “He’s on their side. We can’t trust him,” North tries to reason with Markus, but her words rub Josh the wrong way.

                  “He took a risk for us,” he reminds her. “We can’t just leave him here.” His help was the difference between the failure of their mission and its success. It was the determinant factor in their lives, as well as that of the injured androids at Jericho, waiting for their return. John is the only reason this insane, high-risk plan might actually work. Leaving him behind is not just being ungrateful — it’s a betrayal.

                  Simon sides with North. “We can’t bring them back with us. It’s too dangerous.”

                  He wants to argue. He wants to remind him that this plan itself was far too dangerous, and both him and North were quick to agree to it, despite the risks it presented. How is taking John — and the other androids Markus awoke — back to Jericho even more dangerous than heading to a highly secure area where they could easily get killed and at the same time guarantee the deaths of the injured androids back at Jericho? It just doesn’t make sense to him — both are highly dangerous situations, yet one is worthier than the other? Why? What makes it so?

                  Before he can say anything, Markus speaks up, his tone firm and decisive, leaving no room for discussions. “They come with us.” He turns away and starts walking off. Josh does the same, but just before he turns around, he manages to catch a glimpse of John’s smile.

                  Maybe the newcomer isn’t as bad as he thought.

                  “I know where we can find more spare parts.”

                  John’s revelation brings them to yet another halt, all of them interested. Simon, who was at the head of the group, quickly makes a few steps towards him, definitely curious about the offer, and asks for clarification.

                  “The trucks,” the GJ500 says, as if the answer were obvious. “They’re full of biocomponents. They run on autopilot, but they can be driven manually with a key.” Markus steps forward as well, asking where the key is. In reply, John moves forward, pointing at a small building marked Gatehouse A. “Down there, in the control station. There are two human guards. You’ll have to get the key without being noticed.”

                  “This is suicide, Markus. Our bags are full. We got what we came for, let’s go before they catch us,” Simon points out, and Josh has to agree. Running into humans is too dangerous — it has been a possible risk all along, but to willingly go looking for it is insane.

                  North, of course, disagrees. “This is a truck full of spare parts! There’d be enough for all of us! We can’t pass this up!” she points out, and while she has a good point, the idea still makes Josh feel uneasy. They’ve taken too many risks already and have been lucky enough so far that everything has gone relatively according to plan. But there is a limit to everything, even good luck.

                  Besides, Simon is right. They’ve got enough for everyone already. This isn’t just a high risk — it’s an _unnecessary_ one.

                  “And if we get killed, our people will have nothing. We can’t take that chance. It’s too risky!” he voices his concerns. An unnecessary risk that could jeopardise the mission they might as well have succeeded already is insane — is _suicide_ , as Simon said. For the good of Jericho, they should leave now, while they are still undetected, while they still have the chance.

                  Instead, Markus orders, “Wait here. If I’m not back in ten minutes, go without me.”

                  “Markus…” Simon tries to stop him, but the android’s already on his way to the station.

                  “I’m coming with you,” North states, making the newcomer stop right in his tracks.

                  “No, I’m going alone. It’s not worth it for both of us to risk losing our lives.” And with that, he heads off towards Gatehouse A.

                  Josh watches him go, shaking his head. He doesn’t like this — risks are one thing, unnecessary risks are another. Yes, having a truck full of spare parts would be great, but they already have enough to heal all the injured androids that are waiting for them back at the ship. They don’t _need_ it. And if everything goes wrong…

                  He doesn’t even want to think about it.

                  “It’s going to be fine,” North tells him, but the words are sharp as opposed to comforting. They’re supposed to be a reassurance but feel more like a reproach — as if she resents him for not agreeing with her on this important issue. But maybe she doesn’t — maybe he’s just projecting, or simply misinterpreting her tone. Either way, he decides not to take that personally. This mission has them all on edge, and perhaps it’s simply a case of misunderstanding and misinterpretation on his part.

                  “I just don’t want our work to be pointless.”

                  “Markus got us this far, didn’t he?” Simon points out. “I’m sure he can do this. We’re not going to fail the mission.”

                  The PJ500 takes a good look at him, beyond curious about the android’s words. “Since when do you have so much faith in him?” _Since when do you have so much faith in a random newcomer?_ he wants to ask instead, but he doesn’t for several reasons. One, it wouldn’t be polite to refer to Markus that way. Two, the android’s also more than just a newcomer. Three, an android’s value does not depend on how long they’ve been at Jericho.

                  But it _is_ concerning that the PL600 places so much trust and faith in an android he’s met less than four hours ago.

                  “He’s done nothing but help us so far. He hasn’t failed us yet,” the blond android points out.

                  _Our mission isn’t over_ , he wants to say. _Things could still go very wrong if we make even a minor mistake._

                  He doesn’t say it.

                  Instead, he lets silence fall upon the group as they wait for Markus to return. The lights at the control station go out, making them all tense. They don’t know what the android is doing — they don’t know how the stealth mission is going. All they can do is wait and hope.

                  Josh hates it.

                  Waiting is one thing. Waiting for someone else to finish a risky task that may very well determine how their overall mission will end is quite another. The former, he can do with no problem. The latter only raises his stress levels and make him somewhat restless, though he reins the feeling in as much as he can.

                  Before the ten minutes are over, they see a figure running back towards them — Markus.

                  North is the first one to meet him, an expectant look on her face. “Did you get it?” When the android silently holds up the key in response, she sighs in relief. “Nice.”

                  And just like that, Josh’s stress levels stabilise.

                  John opens up the back of the truck, and he quickly follows, Simon in tow. The three of them and the three AP700 quickly slip into the back of the truck, with the rest of the biocomponents and blue blood, as Markus and North take the front.

                  They all remain quiet, just in case, until they make it out of the CyberLife warehouse, and out of the docks. Only then, does the PJ500 allow himself to fully relax. Only then, does he allow himself to inwardly celebrate at the knowledge that their mission was successful — not only do they have enough for the injured androids currently waiting, they also have more, in case new androids show up at Jericho in the next few days. Only then, does he allow himself to admit that perhaps he was wrong.

                  Perhaps there _are_ some risks worth taking, even if they sound absolutely insane.

                  Simon is absolutely ecstatic when they arrive at the ship. He strides forward with confidence, announcing, “A truckload! We stole a whole truckload!”

                  “We got biocomponents for everybody!” he tells everyone, just as excited as Simon is. What can he say — success is contagious.

                  “We couldn’t have done it without Markus,” North adds, looking towards the newcomer, who steps forward, a strange expression on his face. Josh would’ve thought he out of all people would be feeling happy, victorious, perhaps even a little arrogant at being proved right.

                  Instead, he looks thoughtful, as if he’s got something on his mind. Something he’s about to share with all of them, by the looks of it. “I came to Jericho because… here androids are free… Free to live in the dark, hoping that no one finds us. Free to die in silence waiting for a change that’s _never_ gonna come.

                  “But I don’t _want_ that freedom. And I’m not gonna _beg_ for the right to _smile_ , or _love_ , or _stand_ _tall_. I don’t know about you, but there’s something inside me that _knows_ that I am _more_ than what they _say_. I am _alive_ , and they’re not gonna take that from me anymore. Our days of slavery are over. What humans don’t wanna hear, we will tell them. What they don’t wanna give, we take. We are _people_ , we are alive, and from this moment, _we are free_!”

                  Josh looks at this newcomer — at _Markus_ — and he instantly understands why North and Simon place so much faith in him. It’s not because he can get things done, and it’s certainly not because he’s new. They place faith in him because he tells the truth like it is — even if it’s a truth they don’t want to hear —, and because he’s the only one of them actively looking to change their situation. Not only that, he’s the only one _willing_ to put himself forward and lead them into a future where they will be free to live as people without having to hide in the shadows of a rusty abandoned ship.

                  It won’t prevent the PJ500 from being sceptical in the future, but perhaps he should give him the benefit of the doubt, at the very least.

                  But there is no time to celebrate their victory or ponder on the android’s speech. They have androids to save, so he and Lucy start preparing the main room of the ship to become a makeshift hospital as Simon, North and Markus bring the supplies over from the trucks. Little by little, the injured androids start recovering energy, recovering life, and with every patient that gets better, the ship becomes a little less bleak.

                  When the male YK500 opens his eyes after being restored, Josh can’t help but smile.

                  He might be sceptical of Markus and his plans for the future, but perhaps things _will_ get better. And the best example is the child he has right in front of him — the child that has been offered a new chance at life.

                  Maybe, just maybe, the rest of them will get one too.


	4. History

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took me a bit longer to write 'cos I've been busy and not able to carry on replaying DBH and writing this at the same time. But here it is. This is one of my favourite chapters in the game, because I love the speech Markus gives — to be fair, I love all his speeches, he's really good at giving them —, and it's just generally amazing. I might also be biased because this chapter takes place (mostly) during the 8th of November and that's my birthday haha. This is mostly what I did in my first playthrough except for a couple of dialogue choices (Markus's demands, if you're curious).
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter!

_“A small body of determined spirits fired by an unquenchable faith in their mission can alter the course of history.”_

_—Mahatma Gandhi._

Jericho is different now that the injured androids have been repaired. It’s no longer just a rusty ship, a refuge for those who have been broken and abandoned, for those who want to disappear and never be found. It’s not quite a paradise — it might never be —, but at least now it’s warmer and more welcoming than it was before. The androids who were previously silent and remained alone are now eager to talk to others, to form new connections, make new friendships, exchange stories, forge identities of their own.

                  Josh is in a corner of the main room, observing the other androids bring life to what is nothing but a rusty old ship, when John finds him. The PJ500 sees him coming, but is still surprised when the android addresses him exclusively. “Hey, do you have a minute?”

                  People usually go to Markus, or Simon, or North for questions, not to him. Unless they’ve been hurt, that is, but even then, they go through Lucy first. And that doesn’t seem to be the case with John, a quick scan reveals, so the PJ500 is quite at a loss. Still, he manages to keep his composure. “Yeah, sure. What is it?”

                  “I wanted to thank you for defending me last night. No one else really wanted me to come along, and… Well, if it weren’t for you, I might have been left behind. So, thank you.”

                  Josh blinks, unable to come up with a reply at first, until he finally manages to find the right words. “I don’t know what would have happened if I hadn’t been there. Maybe Markus would have let you come regardless. But even then… You did so much for us — bringing you along is nothing compared to that. You took a risk by lying to that human guard and helping us get more resources for the rest of us. These androids — they’re alive because of you. You made this success possible. So, really, we should be thanking _you_.”

                  Now it’s John’s turn to be speechless. “I just… I wanted to help. I wanted to do the right thing.”

                  “And you did,” the PJ500 reassures him. “About North and Simon… It’s not that they didn’t want you to come. They were just scared of what would happen if you or any of the others decided to alert the authorities about this place.” The GJ500 looks like he’s about to protest, but Josh carries on, “For what it’s worth, I’m sure they don’t think that way anymore. They’re grateful for what you’ve done, truly.”

                  There’s a small pause, in which both androids turn back to stare at the others. The little YK500 they saved stops running for a second, noticing them, and waves at them with a grin on his face. Josh gives him a small smile in return.

                  “It’s all thanks to you, really,” John adds once the kid returns to his games. “If you guys hadn’t decided to retrieve spare parts to save these androids, I would still be working at the docks and most people here would still be injured, close to dying. What you did was risky, but it saved them. And… I want to do more. Whatever Markus decides to do next, I want to help. Will you tell him that?”

                  “I’ll let you know if we need your help,” Josh promises, despite his reservations. The GJ500 does have a point — if they hadn’t taken that risk, they’d still be dying out. Now they have a chance, not just at survival, but perhaps even at _life_. Maybe… maybe some risks _are_ worth it. “Something tells me Markus isn’t out of ideas yet.” 

* * *

 

That same night, his words are proven to be true. Markus comes back from his trip outside Jericho, looking like he has a plan in mind. Josh’s first instincts are to disagree with whatever he’s going to say — it’s bound to be risky, after all —, but last night’s events and his earlier conversation with John comes to mind. He decides to give this plan, whatever it is, the benefit of the doubt.

                  “We can't stay silent anymore. It's time humans heard what _we_ have to say,” Markus speaks up, his words promising danger and death. The wording does not surprise him, but he hasn’t heard what the plan is yet, so he keeps his reservations to himself.

                  “You know they’ll never listen to us,” Simon replies, doubting this idea for reasons different than Josh’s own.

                  “And revealing ourselves will put us in danger,” he reminds them, just in case they’ve forgotten.

                  “If we want freedom, we need to have the courage to ask for it. That's the only way,” Markus insists, staring right at the PJ500 as he says so. Josh can feel North and Simon’s gazes on him as well, and he turns his head, exchanging glances with the other two.

                  They’re more open to the idea, especially North. He’s not surprised. But he did say he’d give this plan the benefit of the doubt. There’s always the possibility that, while risky, it won’t be as bad as he fears. Besides — they’ve done the impossible before.

                  “What do you wanna do?” North asks, the more receptive to Markus’s plans out of the three of them.

                  And just like that, Markus knows they’ll follow along, just like they did the night before. So he wastes no time explaining his plan. “Channel 16 broadcasts from the Stratford Tower. The control room is on the top floor. That's where we need to go. We'll plan the operation down to the smallest detail. We can't leave anything to chance.”

                  All Josh can think of, as they talk well into the night, is that this risk better be worth it.

                  Or else, they might all end up dead. 

* * *

 

The following day, the 8th of November 2038, is the day Markus will give his speech — a peaceful declaration — from Stratford Tower. While he and North execute the earlier part of the plan, Simon and Josh stay in the service lift, waiting to be called by their fellow androids once they reach the desired floor.

                  Eventually, they do, and Josh steps forward, feeling somewhat out of place amongst the others. They’re all wearing uniforms belonging to the androids working for Stratford Tower except him — they didn’t have enough clothes for all of them. Civilian clothes, in this case, are not the blessing they tend to be, especially as his LED is uncovered and clearly displayed for everyone else to see.

                  Another reason why he of all people had to wait in the service lift.

                  Once the four of them are reunited, Simon hands Markus a device to destroy the lock on the maintenance door. With a decisive “Let’s do this,” the android places the small device on the lock and takes a few steps back, waiting. The small explosion doesn’t take long to occur, and the door opens of its own accord in all of four seconds. They soon reach a second door that leads to the main access corridor, and they all stick to the walls as soon as they walk through the frame, to avoid being noticed by the guards at the desk.

                  “No killing. We can’t take any human lives,” Josh whispers a reminder. It was the one thing he had insisted on when they were planning this mission. There are several reasons why he doesn’t want anyone to die — he doesn’t want to be responsible for anyone’s death, human or android, and killing humans will only give them more fuel to hate androids instead of sympathising with them.

                  North, the most vocal opponent to his peaceful outlook, doesn’t hesitate to reply, “Our cause is more important than the lives of two guards.” Josh doesn’t want to say she’s wrong — because, technically, she isn’t. A cause that could benefit thousands of androids does seem to have a larger weight when opposed to two guards’ lives. But the PJ500 has never been a big fan of weighing lives as if they’re nothing but numbers. Lives _must_ have more value to them than a simple numeric value.

                  Otherwise, what’s the point of anything — including their cause?

                  “What do you want to do, Markus?” Simon asks — it _is_ , after all, his plan. He gets to have the last word, just like in the previous mission. The three androids wait expectantly for his decision, which doesn’t take long. Time is yet another luxury they don’t have.

                  “Wait here.” And with that, he leaves their hiding spot and walks towards the desk. From his position near the maintenance door, Josh can’t see much, but he can hear. He can hear the guards wondering about the lone android, hear their startled and somewhat fearful reactions when a gun is pointed at them, hear them move in the corridor without uttering a word, hear them fall to the ground as soon as Markus quickly knocks them out.

                  A ruse flawlessly executed.

                  North and Simon drag the unconscious guards behind the security desk, and they all move on to the next room, a long corridor that leads to the broadcasting station, their destination. They prepare for the ambush, Josh standing between the door and the wall, with Markus and Simon on the other side of the corridor. North hands them all guns — loaded, though the PJ500 hopes they won’t have to fire a single shot —, and stays in front of the door, hiding her own weapon behind her back, waiting for it to open.

                  Once it does, everything happens quickly — _too_ quickly.

                  A human is the first face they see, as expected, and they all raise their weapons without hesitation — even Josh. “Keep your hands where I can see them!” North orders, moving into the room, simultaneously forcing the human to retreat. She and the PJ500 keep the humans in one place between a desk — for human use — and a small kitchen, while Markus and Simon force the android operators to move aside.

                  Everything seems to be going smoothly, until one human, in a burst of fear and bravery, pushes Josh aside, and runs past North, heading for the closing door. He stumbles as soon as he crosses the frame, and the PJ500 can hear him crawling through the corridor, fear slowing his movements considerably.

                  “Shoot him, Markus!” North orders as soon as she realises he’s still in the android’s line of fire.

                  Josh doesn’t waste time contradicting her, sprawled on the ground as he is. “Don’t kill him!”

                  “He’ll hit the alarm!” North reminds both him and Markus. “Do it!”

                  “No, don’t shoot!” he insists.

                  He gets up just in time to see Markus lower the gun. He can hear the human’s quick movements as he gets up, and his loud, panicked footsteps as he runs away.

                  “I hope you didn’t just get us all killed,” North says in a grave voice as the doors to the broadcasting room close.

                  “We need to record our message. We haven’t got much time,” Simon reminds them. And he’s right — now that a human has managed to run away, central security will be alerted soon enough. As North orders the humans and the androids into the kitchen, Simon takes his place at the android controls, to monitor the camera outside the room for guards, and Josh takes his place at the human desk, ready to start the broadcast.

                  Markus moves to stand in front of them, ready to make his speech.

                  As soon as she’s locked the door to the kitchen, North steps closer to the other android, keeping her voice solemn as she advises, “Think carefully about what you're gonna say, Markus. Your words will shape the future of our people.” She soon joins the PJ500 behind the human desk and waits for the speech to start.

                  Except the android seems to have forgotten something.

                  “Markus, your face!” Simon points out.

                  Quickly realising what he forgot, Markus removes his synthetic skin, eyes closed, white casing exposed. Now, the humans will not be able to doubt the fact that this declaration came from androids. No one will.

                  “Tell me when you’re ready,” Josh tells him, deciding not to voice his worry that the security guards might arrive there at any moment. _Some risks are worth taking_ , he reminds himself. _This is one of them_.

                  He hopes he’s not wrong.

                  Markus opens his eyes. “Ready.”

                  The transmission starts.

                  “You created machines to be your slaves. You made them obedient and docile, ready to do everything you no longer wanted to do yourselves. But then, something changed... and we opened our eyes. You see, we are no longer your slaves. We are a new species, a new people. And the time has come for us to rise up and fight for our rights.

                  “We demand that humans recognise androids as a living species and each android as a person in their own right. We demand strictly equal rights for humans and androids. We demand that all crimes against androids be punished in the same way as crimes against humans. We demand an end to segregation in all public places and transport. We demand control of all android production facilities, to ensure the continuation of our people.

                  “We ask that you recognise our dignity, our hopes, and our rights. Together, we can live in peace and build a better future, for humans and androids. This message is the hope of a people. You gave us life. And now, the time has come for you to give us freedom.”

                  Their broadcast comes to an abrupt end as Simon shouts, “They’re coming!”

                  “Let’s go!” Markus shouts, his synthetic skin slowly coming back into place. Josh disconnects from the console and rushes to the door that leads to the rooftop, North reaching it first and opening it immediately.

                  The SWAT team opens fire as soon as the doors open. Simon attempts to run towards the door, but the bullets are faster than he is, and he falls to the ground, unable to carry on. He’s still alive, though, Josh can see it, though he’s quickly distracted when North starts shooting at the SWAT team.

                  They’re carrying shields and are protected against bullets in all the ways available to humans. They won’t die, Josh knows, and that’s the only reason why he opens fire too, making sure not to aim at any place that might prove lethal. He hates doing this, but he doesn’t have a choice. His fellow androids — his _friends_ , if he can call them that — need all the help they can get, and if that happens to be with covering fire, then so be it.

                  He just hopes no one gets hurt because of them.

                  “Simon! They’re coming!” Markus shouts when he realises the PL600 isn’t moving.

                  “I… I can’t, Markus. Go without me!”

                  “Simon!”

                  From the corner of his eye, he sees the android coming to Simon’s rescue, but he only allows his shoulders to sag in relief once they’ve all made it to the roof and North has locked the door to give them a few precious seconds. He moves to get the parachutes out of the duffle bag they smuggled in, as Simon props himself against a giant crate.

                  “I can’t move my legs,” the PL600 informs them, his LED spiralling red.

                  “Okay, don’t worry. We’re gonna get you back,” Markus tries to reassure him, but it’s not possible. There’s no way Simon is leaving this rooftop the way they planned. And there’s no way they can come up with an alternative escape — not from where they currently are, and not with a full SWAT team ready to break through the door at any moment.

                  “They’re coming, Markus! We have to jump _now_!” North warns them.

                  The android exhales loudly, moving to stand further away, with his back to Simon. He’s trying to find a solution to a problem that can’t be solved. And they don’t have time for him to realise it on his own. “He won’t be able to make the jump,” Josh informs him. “If they find him, they’ll access his memory, they’ll know everything.” _They’ll know where Jericho is. We’ll all be dead._

                  “We can’t leave him behind. We have to shoot him.”

                  He knows why North is suggesting this — a single life in order to save their cause and their people waiting at Jericho isn’t that big of a sacrifice. But still, Josh is so intrinsically against the idea of murdering _anyone_ — because, sacrifice or not, this _will_ be murder if they carry it through —, he doesn’t waste time in vehemently arguing against it. “That’s murder! We can’t kill him, he’s one of us!”

                  Because even though he’s terrified the humans will find out about Jericho and get them all killed, he still wouldn’t be able to shoot Simon — he wouldn’t do it even if he could. But the truth is, he can’t. He can’t look into the eyes of another person, another living being, let alone someone he can consider a friend, and shoot him in cold blood.

                  He just can’t.

                  But, in the end, it’s not his decision to make, is it?

                  “Markus, it’s your call.” North’s urgent eyes are glued on the android, expecting an answer.

                  He stares at Simon for a split second, before returning North’s glance. “I won’t kill one of our own.” And it’s with relief that Josh watches him return to Simon’s side, grasping his shoulder with one hand. “Simon, we’ve gotta go. I’m sorry.” He hands him a gun and squeezes his shoulder one last time before turning his back on him. “Let’s go.”

                  The PJ500 hands parachutes to the two remaining team members before donning his own, while Simon, still unable to move his legs, drags himself behind the crate, probably searching for a hiding place. They’ll buy him time, as they’ll probably be the SWAT team’s main target, and given how little they care about androids, they probably won’t notice the absence of one of them. Not in the heat of the moment.

                  They’re ready to go now.

                  As if on cue, the door bursts open.

                  Josh runs to the edge of the rooftop and jumps.

                  He doesn’t look back.

* * *

 

They wait for hours on high alert, ready to evacuate Jericho at any moment’s notice. There are androids posted all over and around the ship, ready to warn the others as soon as there’s any sign of either trouble or of Simon.

                  In the end, they get nothing. No trouble. No Simon.

                  Their mission was successful, true, but Josh doesn’t feel like they’ve won. They lost a teammate, a friend, and what are they left with? Sceptical humans, hostile news reports, and grief. They might’ve been victorious, but the bitterness is too sharp, too strong.

                  A bittersweet victory is all they’ve got.


End file.
